Sonata
by Yellow Zinnia
Summary: AU to the Immortals series. Onua and Daine never met, but fate puts the wildmage on the road to Tortall anyway. (DN romance, WIP)
1. the Thief

**Sonata****  
  
**Rating: PG-13  
Distribution: You're welcome to archive any of my stories, just please e-mail me so I can come visit them!  
Disclaimer: The characters, setting, and mythology belong to Tamora Pierce. The circumstances are my own.  
Summary: An alternate universe to the series. Daine, seventeen, has spent the last six years of her life on her own. Not People, but not quite human either, she is struggling to find her place in the world. Numair Samalin, thirty-one, is a broken man whose faith in magic and in humanity has been deeply shaken. An unlikely pair whose last best hope may be each other. **  
**  
**Chapter 1: The Thief  
  
**Harsh morning light streamed through the windowpane, announcing a wintery dawn and rudely awakening the man who lay on the bed in the center of the room. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his large hands. The bedsprings creaked under his weight as he swung his long legs over the bedside, and he moved over to the small washbasin that stood in the corner. He blinked sleep away from his eyes as he splashed cold water onto his face. Turning to focus on the view from the window, he frowned.  
  
he said tiredly as he took in the sight of the new snow that had fallen during the night. nothing better than a long ride in cold weather.  
  
Though he looked even younger than his thirty-one years, Numair Samalin felt like an old man. Each day seemed cold and bleak and so very repetitive. As part of an effort to instill some joy of life back in his friend, Numair's employer, King Jonathan III of Tortall, had sent him north to Galla as Tortall's representative to a magical council addressing the issue of the sudden appearance of immortals in the Human Realms. After all, Jon had told him brightly. Who better to serve the council than the most powerful Black Robe in the Eastern Lands?  
  
Though he had acted grateful for the assignment when he left the Royal Palace two months ago, as he now glared out at the crisp white snow on the windowsill, Numair cursed his bad luck. Not only had the gathering been nothing more than a group of bitter old mages sitting in a room arguing about arcane and irrelevant knowledge for hours on end, but he was now forced to make the long journey back to Tortall by himself during a frigid Gallan winter.  
  
Sighing in defeat, Numair got dressed and made his way downstairs to settle his bill with the innkeeper before setting out for home.  
  
********  
  
The same harsh dawnlight woke Veralidaine Sarrasri as well. It filtered through the wide mouth of the stone cave she'd been sleeping in to play across her closed eyelids. As they fluttered open, the young woman yawned lazily and stretched. Despite the cold wind that had blown constantly through the night, she had been kept deliciously warm by a bed created by the enormous bodies of the three brown bears who made the cave their home. Though drowsy with the beginnings of winter hibernation, they'd invited the girl to stay the night cuddled up against their thick fur.   
  
A wet, rough tongue lashed out to lick Daine's face, jolting her fully awake. She turned a wry expression towards the owner of said tongue, a sleek, tawny-colored wolf who'd spent the night curled around her feet. You're fair wonderful, Russet. she grumbled. Thank you so much. The canine sat back on her haunches, treacherous tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth comically. Daine grinned in spite of herself and sat up, pulling on her boots. Rising, she whispered heartfelt thanks to her furry hosts who were still sleeping soundly. She shrugged into her thick woolen cloak, shouldered her light pack, and stepped out into the bright morning, the wolf at her heels.  
  
I'm hungry. complained Russet as she trotted alongside her two-legger.  
  
I know, the girl answered apologetically. Me too. But if we stop and hunt our breakfast this morning, it means we won't make it to the marketplace in Cria by midday. Yesterday was the last day of the festival, and if we don't get there today we'll miss out on all the travelers.  
  
Russet gave a very un-wolflike nod, she understood. Daine's survival was dependent on the travelers they met on the roads. Despite Daine's innate connection with the People, Russet knew that her friend couldn't live off the land the way she could. The pair spent their days journeying through rural Galla, stealing whatever they could from the two-leggers they met along the way. The scraps of food and cloth, the handfuls of coppers, and the various trinkets they acquired were enough to sustain them through the daily hardships they endured. It was an odd life for a wolf and a girl, but Daine had been Russet's rescuer- without her the young wolf would have surely died at the hands of bandits along with the rest of her pack.   
  
It may have been an unconventional partnership, but they were inseparable- two beings who had been stripped of everything they'd once held dear- all they had was one another.  
  
********  
  
As the sun rose higher in the sky, Numair saw he seemed to be approaching a small city. Hunger gnawed at his belly, and he urged his horse faster down the road that lead into town.   
  
The dirt road shifted into coarse cobblestones, and the mage's horse picked its way carefully through the crowded streets. Noisy vendors called out the prices of their bright baubles and fabrics, mangy dogs sniffed and nipped at the heels of passersby, and children chased each other through alleyways. Women in full skirts huddled together as they walked, gossiping and laughing as they shot appraising glances at the men they saw. In spite of the chill, tavern doors were wide open, and the sounds of raucous drinking games and strains of merry music hung in the air.  
  
There was once a time when such a vibrant display of life would have interested the young man, excited him. But now Numair's dark eyes didn't even completely register the reality that lay before him. He simply guided his horse to a post outside of a particularly dank-looking tavern, and dismounted.   
  
********  
  
It had been nearly a year since Daine had been to Cria, but she was pleased to discover that she remembered the complicated layout of the streets as well as ever. Russet had elected to stay just beyond the city's limits, safely hidden in the forest where Daine would meet up with her later. One could never tell how two-leggers would react to seeing a wolf in their midst.  
  
Daine ducked into an alleyway behind the Red Lion Inn, a shortcut that lead to the fairgrounds. Suddenly, her body tensed and she quickened her pace as heavy, deliberate footfalls began to sound behind her. Large, callused hands grabbed her exposed wrists and pulled her back against a hard body.  
  
She whipped her head around and glared at the man who held her. His watery green eyes swept up and down her decidedly female frame. A sore-covered tongue ran over gummy teeth and his rough hands tightened their grip. Daine felt his foul breath hot on her face as he pressed her against a nearby brick wall.   
  
Now, this innit a very safe place fer a lass like you, my precious. he drawled, bringing his face closer to hers. With some trepidation, he noticed her eyes were flashing dangerously, but the sight of the girl's full red mouth was enough to make him want to take his chances.  
  
I'll give you two seconds to let me go, Daine hissed, Or you'll be _very_ sorry you ever touched me!  
  
Her attacker sniggered. Is that so, fine miss?  
  
Daine brought her knee up hard against his groin, freeing one hand as he doubled up in pain. She threw an expert punch at his face, and he fell to the ground. Drawing her dagger from the folds of her cloak, the young woman pressed the blunt edge of the blade against the man's throat. Pressing just hard enough to draw a dark drop of blood from his sallow skin, she smiled grimly at him.  
  
So sorry, she said sweetly. But I _did_ warn you.  
  
********  
  
Once inside the tavern, Numair bypassed the crowded tables, instead heading for the near-empty bar. He ordered food and ale from the heavily tattooed barkeep, and then fixed his eyes on the floor; never noticing the young woman who quietly slipped in through the side door.  
  
Years of living alongside wolves had taught Daine to move stealthily, and it was a talent that served her well. Essentially unnoticed, she took a seat at a table in the corner of the tavern and surveyed the patrons.   
  
For the most part, they seemed to be typical Gallans out for a few pints with their midday meals. Daine was beginning to think their was no one worth her time when her gaze fell on the quiet man sitting alone at the bar. He was unusually tall, with long black hair pulled into a loose horsetail. His features were finely sculpted, she even thought he might have been rather handsome if it weren't for the disconsolate look on his face.  
  
His clothes were neat but plain, and she might have dismissed him as a target along with the others if she hadn't noticed a large sapphire drop hanging from one earlobe. _Perfect,_ she thought. _That will buy food enough for Russet and me.  
  
_She sat patiently, a huntress watching her prey, as he ate his meal, paid his bill with a few coins, and eventually walked outside. Spotting her window of opportunity, Daine swiftly followed the tall man out into the street.  
  
********  
  
Stomach full, Numair knew it was time to be off if he wanted to reach another township by nightfall. As he stepped through the piles of slushy snow strewn across the cobblestones, he headed towards his tethered horse. A sudden clanging of bells from a passing cart distracted him as a young woman accidentally ran into his side. She was quite a bit smaller than him, and the force of their collision sent her sprawling on the slick ground.  
  
he said in surprise, Miss, I'm very sorry, I didn't see you! Numair extended his left hand towards the blushing girl and helped her to her feet.  
  
My fault, she said in a fluid Gallan accent. I wasn't watching where I was going. she held on to his hand a moment longer than necessary, then smiled shyly and hurried away.  
  
Numair watched her retreating form until she vanished into the throng of people on the street. Curiously, a bemused smile tugged at his lips as he turned his attentions back to his horse. He swung into the saddle, and as he reached for the reins with his left hand, he was struck with a peculiar feeling. Glancing down at his wrist, Numair did a double take. His priceless black opal bracelet was gone.  
  
His eyes immediately began searching the crowd for the girl who'd _accidentally_ bumped into him. Mythros, Mynoss and Shakith! he swore, as he took off in the direction the little thief had gone.


	2. Wild Magic

**Chapter 2: Wild Magic**  
  
Daine darted expertly through the crowded streets. By the time she reached the city limits and entered the forest where Russet was waiting patiently for her, she was laughing breathlessly, quite pleased with herself. She held up the black opal bracelet triumphantly. Can you believe it? she asked her friend. It's so much better than that earring! There I was, all ready to snatch that stupid sapphire when _this_ peeks out of his sleeve instead!  
  
Russet hopped to her feet happily, trotting beside her two-legger as they took off into the forest. Course I'll have to wait till sundown to pawn it, Daine added thoughtfully. Make sure he's really gone... Oh, Russet, you should have seen it! That great oaf couldn't have caught me if I'd had two broken legs! Course I _am_ damn near uncatchable! the young woman's laughter died on her lips as a large crossbow suddenly appeared inches away from her nose. Whirling around, Daine saw that she and the wolf had become surrounded by a half dozen men , all formidably armed with crossbows.  
  
Damn near uncatchable, you say, lassie? came a vaguely familiar hiss. Daine's eyes narrowed as a tall, greasy haired man with yellowing teeth emerged from behind the ring of armed men. She recognized him instantly as the man who'd tried to attack her in the alleyway in Cria earlier that day. His mouth was twisted halfway between a leer and a sneer, his watery eyes gloating as he looked at her. I'd say I had no trouble catchin' you a   
  
The Greasy Man slinked towards Daine, his fingers inches away from her hair as Russet snarled at him. What say you and I finish what we started this mornin'-  
  
He was suddenly cut off in mid sentence from a great cry of pain that went up from one of his men. Greasy Man jerked his foul head around just in time to see one of his fellows drop his weapon, clawing at his eyes while he howled. One by one, the surrounding attackers began to scream as they suffered various injuries from some unseen force.  
  
Greasy Man quickly drew a jagged dagger from his cloak, spun Daine around and pressed it to her throat. Show yourself! he growled. Show your face or I'll cut her throat!  
  
Daine's eyes widened in shock as the tall, black haired man whom she stolen the bracelet from materialized out of thin air before them. Put down the blade, you filth, he said calmly. Or you will find yourself in the most unbearable pain very quickly.  
  
Daine could feel her attacker's body stiffen as he hesitated. Then Greasy Man snarled and wound his hand tightly into Daine's hair, forcing her to her knees, his knife still firmly against her jugular.  
  
That warm voice spoke once again, though this time, it contained an unmistakably harsher note. I told you to _let her go_.  
  
Greasy Man opened his mouth to respond, but before he'd formed his words, a vicious Russet launched herself at him. Thrown off his guard, Greasy Man dropped his hold on Daine while he screamed and tried to kick the striking wolf off of him.  
  
Chaos broke out all around as Greasy Man's still-wounded henchmen rushed the black haired man and Daine. Daine's rescuer seemed rather unfazed by the several enormous bandits that ran screaming towards him, catching one neatly in the jaw with a sharp punch, another in the ribcage with a bone crunching kick, and a third with a crack of the long staff he carried to both of the man's knees.  
  
Daine's two assailants were readily fended off as she swiftly clawed and kicked at them. One man yanked a large rusty axe from a nearby tree stump and swung it menacingly in the air. Daine dove for the ground, drawing her dagger and quickly driving the blade into the bandit's calf. He stumbled backward, knocking his head hard against a tree trunk, the heavy axe flying up to stick precariously in the branches.  
  
She withdrew her dagger, wiping it on the snow before resheathing it and looking about her. Russet had run the Greasy Man off, and the black haired man was standing amidst the bodies of his three now unconscious aggressors. She stared at her rescuer silently for a moment, unsure of what to say.  
  
He on the other hand, seemed to have no such problem. he snapped, striding towards her. Have you any idea the trouble you've caused me today?  
  
Taken aback by his outburst, Daine's eyes flashed dangerously and Russet growled low in her throat. I don't seem to recall asking you for your help, _sir_! she spat rudely, turning on her heel and walking away from his angry gaze.  
  
Not so fast, you little thief! he shouted. Get back here and give me back my-  
  
CRACK! THUD.  
  
Daine spun around just in time to watch the rusty axe break through the branches of the tree where it had landed and drop down to hit the black haired man squarely on the head.  
  
Horse Lords! Daine cried, rushing back towards the man as he hit the ground with a sickening thud. She knelt down beside him, and breathed a sigh of relief when she found a pulse. Turning to Russet she said decisively, C'mon, help me drag him over to the caves on the other side of the hill.  
  
The wolf cocked her head in surprise. Him?  
  
the girl replied impatiently as she flung one of his heavy arms over her shoulders. He may be an oaf, but he saved our skins. I can't just leave him here, what if the bandits wake up?  
  
Russet grunted and gathered a mouthful of the tall man's shirt in her jaws, dragging him. _Two-leggers_. she scoffed.  
  
Firelight played on his eyelids, waking him much the way the harsh sunrise had woken him that morning. Numair's eyes fluttered open, trying to focus the image before him. A young woman was lying on her stomach beside a small fire, talking to a large white jackrabbit while a tawny colored wolf napped by her heels.  
  
Numair didn't move or speak for long moments. Truthfully, he wasn't even sure if he remembered to breathe. The woman whispered excitedly to the rabbit, whose sleek head was motionless, his eyes fixed attentively on her. She chuckled softly and extended her hand, he nuzzled his head against it briefly before bounding out of the cave and into the snow.  
  
She smiled to herself and sat up, careful not to disturb the wolf. Numair watched as she dug through a pack, looking for something. Despite the various aches on his body- the most painful one _by far_ radiating from the top of his head, Numair couldn't resist staying silent a bit longer. Watching her a bit longer. The sun had set, and the only light in the small cave came from the fire he assumed she'd stoked. The heat from the flames juxtaposed with the cold air outside had left her face and neck flushed. Her hair was long and curly, and though it had been severely pinned up when he'd seen her this afternoon in the city, it was coming loose now, and untamable tendrils spilled down, framing her face. Her eyes were busy searching through her pack, but Numair could see they were a stormy gray and framed by long dark lashes. A tightening feeling rose in his chest as he looked at her, but his rational mind pushed it away. Who cared if she was pretty? She was a thief.  
  
He groaned and pushed himself up on his elbows. Where am I?  
  
Daine looked up in surprise. About a mile outside of Cria, she said. I couldn't drag you all the way back to town so I took you to a cave in a cliffside instead.  
  
As he lifted his head off the cloak he'd been lying on, a searing pain flooded through his skull. He swore loudly, clutching the top of his head and dropping back down.  
  
Daine winced sympathetically and drew a small jar from her pack. Er- if you'll hold still, sir, I think this might help.  
  
Numair sighed in relief as her fingers deftly spread a cooling poultice on his injury. He opened his eyes as the pain receded and looked at the young woman again. Who are you?  
  
Daine smiled softly in spite of herself. My name's Veralidaine Sarrasri... but really that too much of a mouthful. I'm called Daine.  
  
You must be quite the healer, Daine, he replied, sitting up again. My head feels a hundred times better already.  
  
She drew away awkwardly at his words and retreated to the spot where the wolf lay asleep. she said quietly. My Ma was the healer, not me. She was a good teacher s'all.  
  
Well, I'm feeling much better all the same, Numair said briskly, seemingly unaware he had initiated a painful subject. So if you'd be so kind as to return a certain personal article of mine, I'll be on my way.  
  
Daine raised her face haughtily. I don't know what you mean.  
  
Wha- why, I- _my bracelet_! he sputtered. You stole it, I know it was you! she continued to gaze at him defiantly. You cannot possibly understand its worth! he snapped in response. It contains magical properties a _hedgewitch_ could never comprehend!  
  
Infuriated by his arrogance and his slur, Daine shot to her feet, eyes blazing. _I'm no witch!_ she spat. Her words awoke the wolf near the fire, who immediately stepped in front of the girl, growling menacingly at Numair.  
  
Back off, Russet, Daine said. He's not worth getting your paws dirty. Numair watched in amazement as the wolf _obeyed_- resentfully backed away from him and lay down again- her bright black eyes firmly fixed on him. I know, sweetling, the girl said. But I'm sure this fine _gentleman_ will be _taking his leave_ any time now.  
  
Numair raised his eyebrows. There was definatly more to the exchange than his ears could hear. Suddenly his mind flashed back to those first silent moments he'd spent watching Daine in the cave. She'd been talking to a jackrabbit. No, not talking _to_- rather conversing _with_. A strange idea struck him...  
  
Daine took a few steps back and drew her dagger in warning as Numair stood up to face her. Put it away, he scoffed. I'm not going to hurt you. I might even let you keep that trinket you stole from me if you do me one small favor.  
  
Her eyes widened in horror and she brandished her dagger again. No, not that! Numair said, an involuntary flush creeping up his neck. I just want see if I'm right about something.   
  
Then without warning, he reached forward and grabbed her wrist, shutting his eyes as he did so. Heat flared up where he touched her, and Daine suddenly found herself quite breathless, energy coursing through her.  
  
Numair's eyes snapped open again, though he kept his grasp on her wrist. As he looked at her with magical vision, he found himself rather breathless at his discovery.  
  
Her magical aura was the color of bright copper, but rather than radiating softly from her skin, it writhed and slithered over her body like a thousand panicked snakes. There was no mistaking it- she was absolutely covered in it. Wild Magic.  
  
**Author's Note: **I know that the Daine and Numair I've given you in this story are a little out of character... that's half the fun! The Daine and Numair in are in a different place in their lives than the Daine and Numair in the books. Just remember that at heart they are still the same people.


	3. Refused

**Chapter Three: Refused  
  
** Daine snatched her wrist out of the black haired man's grasp, her insides warring between indignation, confusion, and an unexpected thrill.  
  
_Who are you?  
  
_Numair blinked, his magical vision having dissipated at the loss of her touch. He looked at her with normal sight, silently drinking her in with an unreadable expression on his countenance.  
He finally broke the long, tense moment with a ghost of a smile.   
  
How rude of me, he said. My name is Numair Samalin. I am the Master Mage in Residence for the Royal Palace of Tortall.  
  
_Royal Palace?_ Daine's mind began racing- of all the lousy luck! She had gone and stolen from a _noble_! Her eyes widened in horror and she ducked her head.  
  
Forgive me, Nobility! she stammered. I didn't... I'll return your bracelet at once-  
  
Her posture and tone of voice immediately reminded him of the slaves in Carthak. Suddenly he was twenty again, standing in the foyer of the Imperial University watching the young emperor cruelly berate his mute before a jeering crowd of students; the hot desert air stagnant and unforgiving. Numair frowned and grabbed the girl by the chin, forcing her eyes on his.   
  
I'm not royalty, he said, more harshly than he intended. Do not address me as such. He released her and smiled more genuinely, trying to put her at ease.I'm a simple teacher. Daine, is it? Daine, please sit down.  
  
She acquiesced, still wary of this unsettling stranger but willing to listen.  
  
You seem to have a very... _unusual_ relationship with animals, would you agree?  
  
She shrugged. I've just got a knack with animals is all.  
  
I'd say it's a fair sight more than just a knack'... Daine, have you ever been tested for the Gift?  
  
He'd hit upon a sore subject. she hissed, her short temper beginning to surface. Yes I been tested, and tested, and _tested_! I don't have any magic! A bit of a knack with animals, that's it! There isn't anything magical about me! she began to rise to her feet but Numair put his hands out, not touching her, just asking her to stay seated. She looked at him reproachfully, all traces of the fear and inferiority she'd been feeling rubbed away with the reintroduction of this most painful reaffirmation- _there was nothing magical about her_.  
  
I believe you're dead wrong about that, he said quietly. She let out an exasperated breath. Hear me out. There is a rare form of magic- so rare in fact that most scholars will refute its very existence. This connection you have with animals, this ability you have to communicate with them- Daine, you possess _immense_ quantities of what's come to be known as Wild Magic'.  
  
Wild Magic? she echoed in disbelief.  
  
Numair's eyes increasingly lit with excitement as he continued. Yes... I know this must sound impossible to you- but just now when I grabbed your wrist I examined you with what's commonly referred to as magical vision. I saw your aura with my own two eyes and I can assure you that you do have Wild Magic. More than I've ever personally documented before. More so than has _ever_ been recorded, actually.  
  
What makes you the expert? she asked coldly. I though you said most people don't believe this magic even exists.  
  
Wild Magic was an area of acute emphasis for me when I was in university, he explained, not allowing himself to rise to her rudeness. True, it is a field often left unexplored, but _it exists_. It exists in you.  
  
So what? I can talk to animals. I don't see how-  
  
Communication is just one facet, he interrupted. Transfiguring, telekinesis, _healing_. There's so much more more your power than simply _talking_! He laughed mirthlessly at his overzealousness, forcing his voice to remain calm. He had to make her understand.  
  
Daine, the kind of power you possess... well, suffice to say it's beyond any kind of precedent. You have a very unique opportunity, there's no telling what you could accomplish with the proper training. his enthusiasm was creeping back steadily now. Do you live with your family? I'd love to discuss this with your parents- I really think it would be in your best interests to accompany me back to Tortall where you can begin a full course of study. Where you can learn to harness and expand your power. he studied her expressionless face incredulously. Hag's teeth! Say something! he laughed. I'm offering you the opportunity of a lifetime!  
  
Numair was shocked when the young woman's eyes filled with tears. She stood up, her body shaking with anger. _Leave me be_. she ground out, her voice strained. She moved swiftly to her pack and shoved her few scattered belongings back inside. She shouldered her burden and faced the speechless mage once again. Tears were now falling freely from her eyes and in an instant the tawny wolf was at her side, whining in concern.  
  
Numair finally found words. Don't be a fool! he said, his patience wearing thin. You could never be properly trained here! A girl like you-  
  
You don't know who I am! Daine cried furiously. You don't know the first thing about me!  
  
His equally volatile temper flaring, Numair spat out savagely, Why you spiteful, _ungrateful_ little wretch! I saved your neck back there! And I've offered you a life amidst the royalty of Tortall!   
  
You hateful son of a bitch! You would have frozen to death if I hadn't dragged you to this cave!  
  
Refusing to be beaten, Numair closed in until his nose was mere inches from hers, his voice was low and dripping with malevolence. I should have known that a backwoods piece of filth like you wouldn't recognize a real opportunity if it bit her in the ass. I should have let the bandits keep you as their plaything, maybe they could have knocked some humility into that mulish head of yours!  
  
Struck dumb by his cruelty, Daine cocked back her fist and punched him square in the jaw. Caught off guard, Numair stumbled back against the cave wall while she spun on her heel and marched out into the night, the young wolf trotting dutifully beside her.


	4. Russet

**Chapter 4: Russet  
**  
Anger proved a powerful motivator as Daine marched steadily through the snow covered forest, unfazed by the bitter cold. It wasn't until Russet finally complained of exhaustion that the girl agreed to find some shelter for the remainder of the night.  
  
The pair spotted a nearby farm and crept stealthily into the warm barn. Daine assured the various horses and sheep she found there that Russet wouldn't harm them, and though they weren't pleased with the prospect of sharing their sleeping quarters with a wolf, the barnyard animals trusted the girl who may have looked like a two-legger on the outside, but who was all People on the inside.  
  
Daine curled up next to Russet on a pile of straw, smiling softly as several cats braved their close proximity to the wolf to nestle around the girl's legs. But despite the great warmth and comfort her friends afforded her, Daine lay awake for long hours, staring up into the shadowy rafters of the building, the earlier events of the day running through her mind.  
  
She had always been a survivor. She had stared down death and hardship more times than she cared to remember. She had survived the murder of her family, rejection and eventual assailment from the people of the village where she'd grown up, and the many daily hazards a woman faced in a life spent on the road. True, she had a short and raging temper, but deep-seated pain had been such a close companion for so long that mere distress or anger wouldn't normally cause a sleepless night.  
  
She had spent the last six years building up a resistance to people like Numair Samalin. The rich and unbearably self-righteous who treated her like trash. How dare he sweep in and presume himself her savior! How dare he brand her as stupid and worthless! How dare he be so cruel.  
  
Daine encountered people like him often- she had to deal with prejudices and scorn like his almost daily. Ordinarily she wouldn't lose sleep over it.  
  
So what made her lie awake so long? What the hell made Numair Samalin so extraordinary?  
  
Russet roused her from a fitful doze by softly nipping at her forearms. Almost dawn. she told her two-legger. Better get going before the farmer wakes up.  
  
Daine nodded and stood up, careful to disturb the sleeping cats as little as possible. Then she shouldered her pack, and the girl and the wolf headed back out into the cold, making their way toward the road.  
  
They walked and walked, watching the sun rise and settle brightly overhead at midday. Russet was possessed of her usual high spirits, chasing rabbits and barking playfully at the birds perched high overhead in the evergreens. Daine smiled as she watched her friend, thanking the gods for the millionth time for saving Russet from the bandits who'd killed the rest of her pack. The civilized world may have disowned her, but Daine knew she would never be lonely with Russet by her side.  
  
Suddenly the birds stopped singing. An unnerving quiet settled over the forest, the only sound was the rush of the wind hollowly echoing amidst the dark trees. Russet and Daine moved protectively nearer to one another and continued to walk down the road.  
  
The hairs on the back of Russet's neck bristled as she sniffed the air, a familiar stench filling her sensitive nose. She growled menacingly at several dark figures who slowly emerged from the tree line.  
  
So, lassie, snarled the Greasy Man. We meet again.  
  
After recovering from the initial shock of Daine's surprise blow to his face, Numair rushed out into the night after her. He looked for the better part of an hour, but the softly falling snow flurries made it impossible for him to track the young woman.  
  
He reluctantly returned to Cria where he retrieved his horse from the public stables and checked into the Red Lion Inn for the night. He accidentally overslept, and the grogginess only added to his foul mood. It was nearly midday by the time he was on the road again, and he had barely arrived at the next township by evening.  
  
Soon after arriving in the village, Numair found himself sitting in the filthiest and noisiest tavern he had ever seen. The bar had been crowded with customers, so he had opted for a small table in the back of the establishment. He sat there for hours, his dark cloak covering his head and shrouding his face in shadow, nursing ale after ale; waiting for the alcohol to overtake his senses and make him forget how much he hated himself.  
  
Several men in tattered attire entered the tavern and sat down at the table nearest to Numair's. The mage frowned when they began talking raucously. He was about to snap at them to either move the party or shut the hell up when his words died in his larynx. He knew these men. And once he'd begun to listen in on their conversation, it took every ounce of his willpower to refrain from striking them all dead right in the middle of the pub.  
  
No lads, not yet! Greasy Man said with a laugh. You all can take your turns once I've had her... but until then-  
  
_Daine..._  
  
Numair's head was reeling, a million thoughts raced through his mind as he sat silently, listening helplessly as Greasy Man and his goons congratulated themselves on the capture of a certain fiery tempered young woman and the slaughter of her canine companion._  
  
_ Numair's heart leapt when one of the bandits stood and announced crudely that he needed to take a piss. The mage downed the last of his drink for fortitude and inconspicuously followed the criminal out of the side door and into the alleyway.  
  
Once the door had closed behind him, Numair immediately grabbed the bandit by the throat and slammed him against the wall of the building.   
  
_Where is she?  
  
_  
  
Daine felt herself stumble back into consciousness as a pair of arms lifted her from the grimy floor of the wagon. Remembering where she was, she began to scream and struggle, scratching and hitting the arms that now held her firmly against a broad chest.  
  
Daine, I'm not going to hurt you. said a shaky voice.  
  
Her bloodshot eyes tried to focus on the face so near hers. _The Tortallian Mage?_ It couldn't be. She must have hit her head harder than she thought...  
  
Numair gently grasped Daine's wrists, stilling her flailing arms. He had drunk up the sight of this woman before- and he did so again- though this time it was without enjoyment.  
  
Her hair on the right side of her head was matted so thickly with caked blood and dirt that he couldn't even see the wound beneath the mess. Dark bruises were already starting to show on her face and arms, and her dress had been torn to reveal long scratches trailing down her mud splattered legs. Her feet were bare and almost purple with cold, and by the way she was blinking at him, Numair could tell she had suffered so much head trauma that her eyesight had been affected. Numair remembered seeing this same woman by firelight nearly twenty four hours before. It seemed impossible that those beautiful, storm-filled eyes belonged to both creatures.  
  
_This is all my fault._  
  
Almost delirious from pain, Daine continued to struggle weakly as Numair stood, cradling her in his arms. She couldn't see the tears that coursed down the mage's face as he carried her away from Greasy Man's deserted camp and back towards the golden lights of the village- but she could have sworn she heard him give a strangled sob when she called out Russet's name.


	5. the Healer

A/N: I'm using a different computer than I normally do and I'm having some formatting problems. I'm so sorry please bear with me!  
  
**Chapter 5: the Healer**  
  
Ludov Redensra scowled at his mother's cotton clad back as she disappeared into the kitchen. He was twelve years old, for the Crooked God's sake- he could do as he liked! There was absolutely _no _good reason for him to stay and work at the boardinghouse that night. It was _winter_. In _Galla_. The only people who stayed longer than mealtimes at his family's boardinghouse this time of year were local drunks too afraid to face their wives until the next morning.  
  
Ludov sighed and resumed sweeping the oak floor, imagining all the fun his friends were having at the dog fights that night without him.  
  
Nothing interesting ever happened!  
  
Then the front door burst open and a tall man dressed in black rushed into the room. Snow from outside swirled wildly around him, contrasting sharply with the inky color of his clothes and with the darkness of the night. In his arms he carried a large human-shaped bundle wrapped in what Ludov assumed to be the mysterious man's cloak. The boy inched closer, craning his neck in morbid curiosity... a woman. Well, it _was_ a woman at any rate. She didn't seem to be breathing and she was covered with so much blood that it seemed impossible that she could be alive.  
  
The man rounded on him, dark eyes desperate. This woman, he said hurriedly. this woman needs a healer! Frightened by the tone of the man's voice, Ludov stared at him, not answering. Did you hear what I said? he shouted. _Where can I find help?_  
  
The manor, the boy finally squeaked. Whitehall Manor on the edge of town. M'Lord's son's taken ill- every healer for miles around is there.  
  
Numair nodded, his options racing through his head. What choice did he have? I'll need more blankets, he said to the sandy haired boy holding the broom. I've got to keep her warm till we reach help.  
  
Lady Beatrice Glavensra of Whitehall stormed down the corridor, muttering irritably to herself. It is a poor household indeed that doesn't even have enough servants to answer the front door! The whole manor was a joke- the tapestries were faded, and the roofs leaked during bad weather! Beatrice didn't know how much longer she could go on like this- she was royalty after all! Her fourth cousin on her mother's side had married the niece's stepbrother of a lesser prince if Tyra! Honestly, didn't breeding count for _anything_ these days?  
  
Whoever was on the opposite side of the heavy door continued to pound loudly even as Beatrice pulled it open. But her narrowed eyes and sour face softened considerably once she glimpsed the man who stood on the steps outside.  
  
Come in, dear stranger! she said, honey dripping from her high voice. Come in out of the cold.  
  
Numair stepped over the threshold and gestured with his head toward the bundle of furs he carried in his arms. My, er- sister, he said hurriedly. she was attacked. Please, I was told there were healers here who could help her.  
  
Beatrice glanced down at the face of the woman the handsome stranger clutched in his arms and recoiled in disgust at the sight. Of course, she said, stepping back. follow me.  
  
The Lady of the manor escorted Numair to the north wing of the building where Daine was pried from his worried arms by a fat, red-nosed hedgewitch who took the girl into a sickroom and shut the door, leaving the mage out in the hall with Beatrice. I took the liberty of having some hot tea brought up. she said, gesturing to the two steaming cups a servant was currently placing on a low table. Beatrice eyed the serving girl sharply, gave her an order, and she scurried back into the dining room to continue working. the Lady said, gesturing to the space next to her on the bench where she was seated. you must be frozen.  
  
Numair sank into the seat offered but elected to bury his face in his hands rather than take the hot mug.   
  
Beatrice used the opportunity to observe the mage openly. He was tall, nearly six and a half feet by her guess, with powerful looking limbs- and though his face was covered by hands boasting long, strong fingers- she remembered defined cheekbones and a full mouth, despite the worry lines that creased his forehead and the raw emotion swirling in his eyes.  
  
She lightly placed one pale hand on the man's thigh. Not really a gesture of comfort- but less intimate than the touches that would come later, she thought with a smile.  
  
Forgive me, Numair said, her unexpected touch rousing him from his thoughts. My name is Salmalin. I'm the Master Mage in Residence at the Royal Palace in Tortall.  
  
Royal Palace? the woman beside him burst out, then blushed furiously and batted her eyelashes. What a pleasure, Master Salmalin.  
  
Numair nodded his head, then turned back to face the door of the sickroom Daine had disappeared into. Unwilling to be forgotten, Beatrice began to move the hand on his thigh, her fingers trailing suggestively over his wool breeches. You must be so worried for your sister, she cooed. But you really can't do her any good sitting here making yourself sick. Numair turned back to the Lady, half understanding her words. We really ought to get you out of those wet clothes...  
  
_She was coming on to him_. And pretty brazenly at that. Numair looked at the woman sitting next to him on the bench. She wasn't bad looking- not by any means. Pale skin, blue eyes, straw-colored hair. The small lines at the corners of her eyes betrayed her age, and her breasts rose and fell conspicuously in her low cut dress as her breathing quickened.  
  
Had he found himself in this situation three days ago, Numair would have had that woman on her back with her legs in the air in a minute flat. But now... now the very idea chilled him to the bone. The realization of who he'd become over the last few years suddenly hit him. The womanizing, the drinking, the anger. He'd let pain overtake the man he once was- let his vices and his sadness control his behavior.   
  
Numair rose to his feet and stepped away from Lady Beatrice. Is the Lord of the manor at home? he asked pointedly. I'd like to pay my respects.  
  
Beatrice did not take kindly to refusals. she spat. You're all so lacking in manners! she stood and began to walk haughtily away from the mage. My husband is still in the dining room, receiving some other guests from Tortall. Perhaps you know them, she said scathingly. They're a party led by an _appalling _woman whose gone and named herself after a beast!  
  
_The Lioness?_  
  
Beatrice stood openmouthed and furious as Numair took off excitedly down the hall where the serving girl had disappeared earlier.  
  
Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau finally stood up from her seat at Lord Glavensra's humble but welcoming table and stretched. I'm off to bed, she said regretfully. Thank you so much for your hospitality tonight, Peter. Your generosity has turned what could have been a disaster into a real pleasure. My men and I won't forget it.  
  
The portly, cheery faced old man stood and clasped the lady knight's hand. Think nothing of it, my dear. Anytime I can be of service-  
  
But his words were interrupted as Numair opened the door and entered.   
  
the redhead smiled broadly and went to embrace the mage. What are you still doing in Galla? I thought you'd be nearly back to Corus by now!  
  
I was delayed. Alanna, please, I need your help! There's a girl- she's been wounded very badly.  
  
Daine felt as though her flesh was melting off of her bones. She had become so cold that her body had gone beyond freezing and felt as if it were on fire. Her skin screamed where the hands of the healers prodded her, but her head hurt so that she couldn't remember how to open her mouth to tell them to stop.   
  
Then the fire in her skin died and the ringing in her ears was silenced. Daine's eyes fluttered open briefly to glimpse sparkling purple light. She began to breathe more evenly as the pain lessened and she dropped off into a dreamless sleep.  
  
When she awoke again, sunlight was streaming through the frosty windowpane. She rose up on her elbows to discover that she lay in a bed covered in soft white linens, and there was a small woman with red hair snoring away in an armchair beside the bed.  
  
Daine shifted on the mattress and the creak of the springs woke the woman in the chair, her lashes opening to reveal startling eyes of amethyst. She smiled warmly. Daine, right? she yawned. Feeling better?  
  
Daine nodded, too confused to answer.   
  
I'm Alanna, by the by. the lady knight continued as she stood up and stretched. Please excuse me for a minute, I didn't' realize I'd fallen asleep and I'd better go have a word with Lord Glavensra. she squeezed the younger woman's hand gently. I'm so glad to see you're better. I'll send Numair right in.   
  
Daine watched Alanna slip through the door, and heard muffled voices outside in the hall. Numair? Who on earth... not that mage? There was _no way_- but then didn't she remember his voice from last night? Could it really be-  
  
He thoughts were cut off when he quietly entered the room.  
  
Numair avoided her puzzled gaze, though he couldn't keep the relief from his eyes or voice when he saw that Daine was awake and alive. You're all right, he breathed. I was worried... I'd thought I was too late.  
  
Daine blinked. _I thought he hated me?_ You brought me here? she asked, her voice still shaky. What happened to the bandits? They took me to their camp... me and Russet... she trailed off and looked around the room expectantly, searching for the wolf.  
  
the Numair began, his eyes finally on her. I'm sorry... she was dead by the time I made it to their camp.  
  
She fell back against the pillows, remembering. She'd heard Russet snarling and howling- then she'd heard the men laughing maliciously.  
  
And the bandits? she asked, her voice hollow.  
  
  
  
she said coldly.  
  
Numair walked out into the yard surrounding the manor's stables where Alanna and a handful of knights of the King's Own were saddling their mounts, preparing to leave.   
  
How's our patient? she asked, moving towards her tall friend as he approached.  
  
Hard to say, he said quietly. She's been through a lot.  
  
Alanna nodded thoughtfully. Have you asked her again about coming to Tortall? I mean, I know she's just woken up and all, but we'll make better time if we set off sooner rather than later.  
  
he answered. I mean, I haven't asked her again. he paused and looked at her. he ventured. I don't suppose... She rolled her eyes good naturally and set off across the yard.   
  
Finish up with my mount and get two more horses ready for you and the girl. she called over her shoulder, her bright armor flashing in the morning sun.


End file.
